


it deepens like a coastal shelf

by TangoDancersMovingCastle



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Gen, Homelessness, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-30 06:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12647655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TangoDancersMovingCastle/pseuds/TangoDancersMovingCastle
Summary: Mary squeezed her arms tighter around her ribs. Had she stayed back home, she would have been arrested on the spot. Then again, she may have fared better in a night at a police station than under a thunderstorm.Never had Mary imagined that she would find herself in such a predicament. But it was what she deserved. She brought all this shame onto herself. It was her fault that she was a disappointment as a daughter. All of it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First fic I'm posting for this fandom. I've been reading a lot of good gc fics lately and wanted to contribute to this ship. Still trying to figure out the characterization though, so nothing's perfect. It should be about three chapters or so. I hope you'll enjoy it!

_man hands on misery to man._  
_it deepens like a coastal shelf._  
_get out as early as you can,_  
_and don’t have any kids yourself._  
\- philip larkin, this be the verse

* * *

 

Thunderclouds bellowed overhead of Mary Bolkonsky – cackling at the utter, pathetic state she was in. The girl flinched as raindrops scraped through her skin like bullets. Water trudged inside her tattered ballet flats, sloshing against her toes with every puddle she stepped in. Her lemon yellow dress and paper thin cardigan, both splattered with dirt and mud, did nothing to shield her from the barrage of gusts.

 

The trek through the thunderstorm proved treacherous enough. The most difficult part of it, though, was walking through it with deteriorating eyesight. Without any visual aid, Mary could hardly make out the neon lanterns that glowed amongst the street.

 

Or just barely avoid colliding with incoming traffic.

 

She had begged her father for glasses several times, but he only scoffed at each request.

 

_“Your appearance is enough of a farce as it is. You expect to have yourself a husband with those things in front of your face?”_

 

Mary squeezed her arms tighter around her ribs. Had she stayed back home, she would have been arrested on the spot. Then again, she may have fared better in a night at a police station than under a thunderstorm.

 

It wouldn’t be long before word got out about what happened within the Bolkonsky household, about what her father did. She wouldn’t be able to handle the teasing, rejection, and bullying from the town. She may have no choice but to leave. But for Mary, her whole life had been ingrained there. Where would she go once she left for good?

 

Never had Mary imagined that she would find herself in such a predicament. But it was what she deserved. She brought all this shame onto herself. It was her fault that she was a disappointment as a daughter. All of it.

 

"Mary?"

 

Mary froze in her steps.

 

“Mary, is that you?” The voice inquired, slightly alarmed.

 

Realizing that the voice was real, Mary ducked her head to avoid eye contact with the source. She had been so focused on her thoughts that she didn’t notice the hum of an idle engine right beside her.

 

She couldn’t let anyone see her like this.

 

Mary made a mad dash away from the car.

 

“Wait!” the voice cried out.

 

Mary blindly ran through the haze of the storm. She only managed to get a few feet ahead until something caught her wrist. Mary tugged but the stranger was stronger. They held a vice grip hold on her.

 

“Mary, it’s okay!”

 

The pellets of raindrops upon Mary’s skin stopped. She was surprised to find herself under the dome of an sunflower patterned umbrella.

 

Two orbs of white light then pierced through the darkness. Mary squinted at the headlights beaming at her direction. Through her bleary eyes she finally looked up towards the stranger with the sunflower umbrella.

 

Sonya Rostova.

 

How could she not recognize her?

 

Mary had thought for sure that Sonya resembled an autumn fairy from the way that she seemed to bask in the white beams of light. As quickly as the thought crossed Mary’s mind, it vanished. Such ideas of her fellow classmate were not appropriate.

 

“What are you doing outside? You’re going to get yourself sick.” Sonya released her grip and did a double take on Mary’s attire. “What happened to your dress?”

 

“I just needed the fresh air…” Mary muttered meekly, deciding to cast her eyes downwards towards Sonya’s pointed sneakers.

 

“Are you okay though? You must be freezing.” With her free hand, Sonya briefly touched Mary’s shoulder.

 

“I’m fine.” Mary voiced. She jerked her shoulders away from the touch, albeit a bit too violently.

 

Sonya quickly retracting her hand to her side, attempting to hide her hurt and shock with a neutral expression. Mary softened her gaze, realizing what she had done.

 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” A heavy lump sprouted in Mary’s throat. She refused to speak further, for if she did she feared she would collapse into a pit of despair right there. Already she could hear her father’s ragged voice in her ear.

 

_“There’s no place for those vile tears here. Wipe them away at once!”_

 

Sonya frowned. She had known that Mary was a bit of a recluse since elementary school. Rarely did Mary contribute to class lessons in their shared history class. She never spoke unless spoken to. Plus, she always occupied herself with a library book during lunchtime. Mary was on her own planet during those moments, oblivious and deaf to the surroundings around her. Most of all, she had never heard Mary raise her voice until just now. 

 

(Not that Sonya has been quietly observing Mary every now and then in her spare time. She had honestly been meaning to talk to Mary at the right moment, just to say hi or possibly invite her over to her home, but she never did it.)

 

Now that Mary stood in front of her, exposed to the elements and without even an umbrella in hand, Sonya could tell that something seemed off.

 

Sonya tilted her head, gaging Mary’s face. Grey and purple ovals blushed and concave underneath her eyelids. Mary’s shoulders shivered and creaked like a rocking ship in the sea as a puff of air brushed against her dress. She was hugging herself; her bony fingers trembled profusely while rubbing against her upper arms to generate what little warmth she could.

 

Sonya shuffled back a step, eyes widened. A sadness gnawed in her heart, seeing Mary in such a state. She mentally chastised herself for not noticing sooner.

 

She made a decision. It’s now or never.

 

“Would you like to join me for dinner?”

 

Mary scrunched her face in confusion.

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“I-I meant me and my family for dinner.” Sonya clarified. “My cousin and I — that’s Natasha waiting in the car over there — we’re staying with our aunt for the time being and she always makes enough food to feed a kingdom. If we let our aunt know now, she’ll be more than happy to set another place at the table for you.”

 

“Join your family for dinner? I couldn’t possibly…even after the way I treated you just now.”

 

“That was my fault entirely.” Sonya held a hand towards her chest. “Had I known before that the sort of thing made you uncomfortable, I never would’ve attempted to do so. Please, join me for dinner as my way of saying ‘sorry’. Or at least let me drive you back to your house if that’s what you want instead.” 

 

Mary paled.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“It’s…” _My father, he hates me. My father kicked me out of the house. My father threatened to send me to jail for trespassing if he ever saw me again._

 

“It’s nothing to worry about. I…” Mary sighed, shaking her head before plastering a smile. “I would love to join your family for dinner if that’s alright.”

 

Sonya blinked at her. For a terrifying moment, Mary thought that she could see into her soul, distinguish her lies from truth, and realize what was truly going on.

 

“It’s more than alright.” Sonya blessed her with a kind smile — a smile that seemed to briefly reassure her that everything was going to be okay. It didn’t go unnoticed by Sonya the way that Mary’s face whitened when she offered to drop her off back at her house. She wanted to question Mary further, but it would only push her away. 

 

 _Maybe after dinner or later than that_ , Sonya thought, _Mary could explain to me what’s wrong._

 

Sonya then tilted her head towards her left. The two of them walked side by side towards Sonya’s car. The storm had lightened to a slight drizzle, raindrops tapping gently upon Sonya’s sunflower umbrella.

 

“I just want to let you know, I may not eat too much for dinner.” said Mary. Seconds later, Mary’s stomach groaned in protest.

 

“Your stomach seems to say otherwise.” Sonya teased.

 

Mary chuckled but her laughter held no joy, no mirth inside.

 

“Perhaps.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary Bolkonskaya meets Marya Dmitriyevna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going out to add more to this chapter, but then I thought it was going to be too long of a chapter. The actual dinner will be in the next chapter. 
> 
> TW: description/mention of physical abuse

Mary stared blankly out the window in the backseat of Sonya’s minivan as her damp hair dripped against the seat cushions. As she watched the lanterns glow and whip past her and chimneys from quaint, cedar houses puff with smoke, a heaviness plumed inside her chest cavity. She further shrugged on the jacket lent to her by Sonya that was wrapped around her shivering body.

When she’d walked past houses like those after her classes, she liked to picture the kinds of people that lived inside and the lives they led. It was entertaining at most, and provided a nice, calming distraction for her before she faced what was in store for her at home.

_An elderly man preparing rotisserie chicken for dinner, his youthful golden retriever seated beside the kitchen counter._

_A woman curled up in a warm bath and reading a book in a candle lit room._

_A mother and father settling themselves in front of a television with their children for movie night…._

Mary shook her head and hugged her small backpack to her chest. The thoughts that she dabbled with only worsened the nerves tingling through her wrists in waves. Instead Mary turned her attention to quietly listening to the sounds around her.

The raindrops clipping against the window glass. The tires crunching the gravel underneath. The hushed whispers of Sonya and Natasha’s argument.

“Please, Sonyushka?”

“Absolutely not. Do you not see this storm? Besides, I’m under strict orders by our aunt not to let you behind a wheel whatsoever.”

“Well, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“We end up in the hospital. Then Marya butchers me alive slowly.”

“Don’t be silly. She loves us, and it’s not like she’s actually hiding a butcher knife underneath that dress.”

“Tasha, think about what you’re saying.”

“…Good point.”

Natasha twisted her body from the passenger seat towards Mary.

“You’re doing alright back there?” She offered Mary a pearly white smile.

Natasha was always a sweet girl, though Mary had hardly spoken to her. While Mary spent her time occupying herself with Russian literature, Natasha flourished in school popularity. She had only seen Natasha or heard about her deeds from passing gossip by peers or teachers. Mary would also brush by Natasha after school as she animatedly chatted with her girlfriends on plans for the weekend, like shopping or seeing a traveling music band at a local venue.

She once heard that every couple of Saturdays, Natasha and Sonya would stop by one of the local homeless shelters to donate unwanted clothes or help serve food to the homeless. Sometimes they would entertain the patrons there with music and singing. Natasha especially liked to invite the children to dance with her while she sang.

Natasha was devoted to music. She partook in church choir, school concerts, and their school’s annual musical. Natasha especially excelled in singing. Mary knew this because she once had to accompany Natasha on the piano for their school’s winter concert months ago.

When Natasha opened her mouth, all eyes turned to her. Natasha basked under a cornflower blue spotlight while singing about yearning for her love that was far away in the distance. As she outstretched her arms towards the end of the song, the crowd held their breath. Mary believed that if it were possible, doves would’ve flocked and flown around Natasha’s head as she sang.

Mary envied Natasha for all that she possessed: beauty, talent, and capacity to have everyone kneel to their knees for her. Yet at that moment as Natasha glanced at her with a concerned gaze, Mary could see why everyone admired her.

“I’m alright, thank you.” Mary smiled shyly in return. “I appreciate you both for doing this. I hope I’m not intruding on your family dinner tonight.”

“Don’t worry about it!” Natasha chirped. “I already texted our aunt. She’s excited to meet you. And hey, maybe you can bring your father to our house for dinner sometime!”

“My father hasn’t left the house since he got sick. Besides, he can be rather…difficult when it comes to meeting people.”

“I hear you. Relatives are the worst sometimes but you love them anyway,” Natasha turned back to Sonya. “ _even_ when they’re looking out for our best interests.”

“You know what my answer is going to be.”

Natasha lightly swatted Sonya’s forearm.

“You’re the worst, you know that?”

Sonya playfully stuck her tongue out.

“It doesn’t matter because we’re here!”

The car jolted to a stop in front of a lit porch with a miniature built in swing. Sonya turned off the engine and stepped outside along with Natasha and Mary.

When reaching the glass stained door, Sonya began to excavate through her purse. She briefly squealed in delight when her fingers held purchase on her keys. A metallic charm of an orange tabby cat was attached to the key ring along with a pinky sized, wooden ukulele charm.

Natasha passed Sonya and Mary first, apologetically excusing herself for needing to change in her room. Mary peeked at Natasha briefly climbing some kind of spiral staircase before fully absorbing the inside of the house.

The warmth embraced Mary with welcoming arms. She drank in the sights of the lavish foyer — how the walls were fleshed with a golden leaf hue. One chandelier hung from the ceiling, dazzling with a heavenly glow. To witness the confides of Natasha and Sonya’s home should not surprise Mary the least, having grown up under a structure of substantial and financial influence.

Yet their home was comforting, inviting...greatly contrasting her own — frigid, absent of color, quiet except for when her father’s wheezing echoed throughout its interior.

“Make yourself at home.” Sonya assured before closing the front door behind them.

Mary took three steps inside the house.

She froze.

Above Mary was a chiaroscuro painting of a woman. She towered above with her straightened regal posture, her hands clasped in front of her middle, and scorching red hair. A scowl rested on her face, accentuated by her heavy green eyeshadow. Even though the image was static, Mary could feel the immense power thrumming from its subject.

“Is this your aunt?” Mary asked.

Sonya nodded. “Marya Dmitriyevna. The one and only.”

“She looks incredible.”

“My fiancée is rather fond of it as well.” a unknown voice added from behind Mary.

Mary nearly jumped out of her skin, but Sonya was less shaken than her. Mary turned around. Face to face was her — the woman from the painting: Marya Dmitriyevna. Identical in every way like her depiction from her ruby coated dress down to her ankle length black boots.

“I think you scared her.” Sonya commented to her aunt.

“Well, I do my best to make an unforgettable first impression now and then.” Marya smirked. “I supposed you must be Mary?”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mary greeted her with a curt nod. Her heart was still throbbing in her chest. “You have a wonderful home.”

Marya nodded as well, but then frowned. She arched an eyebrow.

“What’s this?”

Panic seeped into Mary’s lungs. Already she had offended their aunt by her mere, lowly presence. She knew she should’ve turned down Sonya’s-

“My God, you’re soaked to the bone. Were you out in that storm all night?”

“I forgot my umbrella.” Mary admitted sheepishly. Her imminent panic melted away — for now.

Marya tsked.

“Forgetfulness happens to the best of us. Just wait until you get to my age.” Marya chuckled and threw a wink. A smile cracked from Mary’s lips, but quickly disappeared.

“It wouldn’t be appropriate for you to enjoy dinner at the state you’re in. So!” Marya clapped her hands. A woman in a black buttoned dress uniform appeared by Marya’s side.

“Upstairs, two doors on your right you’ll find a shower that you can use. Anya here will provide you some spare clothes that you can wear tonight and toss your clothes into the washer. Dinner will commence in half an hour. I hope you’ll be able to join us by then.”

Marya tilted her head towards the staircase, giving Mary a reassuring smile. “Well, go on.”

“This way, miss.” Anya gestured to the spiral staircase.

Before Mary climbed up the spiral staircase, she turned back. Marya shooed at her to continue to go up the flight of stairs. Sonya was smiling, nodding in agreement.

Mary nodded in return and followed Anya up the stairs. On the second floor, Anya paused at a six foot sized closet. She rummaged through the shelves and handed Mary a knee length black dress with pink floral patterns on it.

“You can wear this.” said Anya. “Do you want me to store your backpack somewhere?”

Mary briefly tightened her grip the straps of her backpack then loosened. It was best for her not to make assumptions of what was appropriate to bring to the dinner table.

“Please be gentle with it.” Mary shrugged off her backpack and reluctantly lent to it Anya.

“Of course.” Anya smiled warmly. “The bathroom is next door. I’ll be close by if you need me.”

“Thank you, Anya.” said Mary. Anya nodded, turned, and walked further down the corridor.

Mary entered the modest bathroom, seizing the lock. A faux plant and a watercolor painting of fading dancing ballerinas decorated the wall.

Mary turned to the mirror, judging every flaw in her appearance. Dried snot had settled underneath her nostrils. Flakes of skin shedded from her sandpaper cheeks. The green crust that had shaped and gathered by her eyelids.

Mary shook her head. She went right to work, remembering that she had a time limit. First she unclasped the chain of her necklace, gently placing it onto the sink counter. Her fingers then shrugged off Sonya’s jacket, unbuttoning three fourths of the buttons of the dress before they paused.

_You have to do this._

Mary heaved an annoyed sigh. Mentally bracing herself, she finally unhooked the last couple of buttons with trembling hands, and let the dress unceremoniously drop to the floor. Her eyes widened like saucers at her reflection.

The damage was worse than she expected.

Below her ribs were bruises. Her injuries were blending between brown and mustard yellow patches. Mary trailed down to her wrists. Splotches of violet spots on her wrists accompanied themselves with the gangrene patches below her ribs.

_Horrible. Hazard. Hideous._

Haggard voices groaned in Mary’s ear as she scrubbed the lavender scented foam across her skin. She made sure to avoid the bruises stretching down her lower half of her body.

When Mary stepped out of the shower, blow dried her hair, and slipped on the dress, she could only lavish from the warmth that comes from emerging from refreshing showers. All other emotions were numb, foreign to her. Part of her wished that she could’ve just stayed inside and hide in the bathroom.

Mary’s red rimmed eyed reflection glowered disapprovingly at her final appearance with a curled lip. The emotional turmoil of the day’s events had taken a toll on her body. Never had she seen herself look so exhausted, so broken down, and just plain done with what the world has thrown at her today alone.

_Knock! Knock!_

Mary cleared her throat.

“Yes?”

“Dinner’s about to start in five minutes, Mary!” Mary could imagine the enthusiastic smile on Sonya’s lips.

Mary unlocked the door and swung it open. Sonya was bouncing on the heels of her feet, stopping when she saw Mary open the door.

“You look beautiful.” Sonya breathed.

“Thank you?” Mary questioned. She lowered her head down and avoided Sonya’s gaze as her cheeks glowed red. She felt like anything but a beautiful eighteen year old woman.

“And you look rather...ravishing yourself.”

Sonya giggled, covering her laugh with the palm of her hand. Mary tilted her head. Wasn’t this was the right way to compliment women?

“I’m sorry. I’m not used to be people complimenting me, let alone call me ravishing.” Sonya recomposed herself, beaming at Mary’s direction. “Anyway, shall we head down?”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated!


End file.
